


Crocus

by Goldpeaches



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8925364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldpeaches/pseuds/Goldpeaches
Summary: On a snowy night Thorin finds out that he and Bilbo may have more in common than he thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TopazMyst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TopazMyst/gifts).



> I don’t want to give too much away, but this was inspired by my favourite Bilbo/Thorin Scene in the movies. It is set sometime between Smaug’s death and the declaration of war between the Dwarves, people of Laketown and the Elves.

It is dark now and the snow is falling, thick flakes raining down quietly and settling in his hair and the fur on his collar. Thorin always preferred the cold winter nights to hot summer days. Not because it made people come together, hug and cuddle for warmth. It was the opposite, actually. It allowed him to wrap himself up in his coat and to have an excuse to keep people at a distance. 

It is better that way, he keeps telling himself. It is better to keep people at a distance. He is their leader, he is their king, _he_ is the one making the tough decisions for his people and he cannot let his feelings for friends or family interfere with that.

Yes, it is lonely, but it is what it is.

When a figure approaching from the distance catches his eye, he leans on the wall to watch carefully. For a moment he considers extinguishing the torch next to him, but then abandons that thought. He is never going to hide from anyone, not the bargeman and certainly not the elven king. Whether they want to talk or attack, he is prepared.

There is still a little bit of relief when he realizes that the figure is neither one of them, but the burglar. He has been a surprisingly good friend to Thorin and sometimes he even feels like Bilbo is the only one of his company he can truly trust. He is the only one who doesn’t seem to grasp the value of the - still missing - Arkenstone and is therefore the only one with no interest in taking it. 

Thorin steps into the light, once Bilbo is within earshot and opens his mouth to call out to him but hesitates. He thinks he is past referring to Bilbo as “Burglar” and calling him “Master Baggins” seems a bit formal after everything they have been through.

“Bilbo!” It feels strange to say the name, but not wrong. The Hobbit spots Thorin and gives him a little wave. “Come, join me for a moment. There is something I need to discuss with you.”

There really isn’t anything to discuss and Thorin doesn’t know why he wanted Bilbo to come up, but he figures it can never hurt to remind Bilbo of the dangers of being out alone after dark.

The Hobbit still gives him a nod and ducks through a small gap in the front door that can easily be blocked should the need arise.

Thorin squares his shoulders and turns his back when he hears naked feet on the wet stone steps. He doesn’t want to seem too eager to speak with Bilbo.

“Yes, Thorin?” Bilbo’s voice is a little impatient, but also a little amused, as if he sees right through Thorin’s strategy. He sticks with it anyway and slowly turns around. 

Bilbo’s hair is just a little damp with melted snow and his nose is red from the cold. 

“It’s such a beautiful night, isn’t it,” Bilbo continues before Thorin can say anything. “I just love this time of the year. Don’t you?”

“It’s all the same to me,” Thorin replies. 

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t love to curl up in your armchair with a mug of mulled wine to watch the snow fall.” 

“I never did that.” It’s not entirely true. Thorin remembers playing in the snow when he was still very young before his life was filled with studying everything he needed to know to become king one day. And then after the dragon came he never really stopped working. Whether it was working to support his family or working to make a better life for the Dwarves in the Blue Mountains, he never really sat down just to sit and enjoy the moment.

“You never…” Bilbo looks up at Thorin wide eyed. “You should do it sometime. You could visit me in The Shire once all of this is over. Next winter even.”

Thorin can’t help but smile just a little bit at the invitation. He would like to believe that there is going to be a next winter for him and that Bilbo would still think fondly of him even if there was a war. Sometimes he even thinks that his friends, his kin and even this Hobbit are worth more than all the treasure in the mountain combined, but he knows that it isn’t true. He would sacrifice every single one of them for his gold.

“I would like that,” he says before his thoughts become consumed by the treasure once again. When Bilbo nods as if that settles it and he is actually expecting Thorin to show up, Thorin notices that he shivers from the cold. “We should go back inside.”

“Ah, not yet. It is such a peaceful night.”

“Then take my coat at least,” Thorin offers, slightly begrudgingly. He doesn’t want to give up his coat, but he also doesn’t want the Hobbit to be cold.

“No, Thorin, I couldn’t. You would freeze.” He tilts his head to the side as if there is more he wants to say, but expects Thorin to actually say it out loud.

“I don’t feel cold easily,” Thorin says. He doesn’t get at all what Bilbo is hinting at, so he makes it sound like he deliberately doesn’t respond to the unspoken suggestion and it makes Bilbo huff.

“We could share your coat.” Bilbo doesn’t wait for a response from Thorin and steps closer. Close enough for his toes to touch the tips of Thorin’s boots.

Thorin knows what to do, of course. He has kept his nephews warm in his coat when they were still quite small, and he has wrapped his sister into his coat after her husband died. He has seen others do it, but he never shared his coat with another man. Still, there is something about Bilbo, something gentle and reassuring that makes opening up to him feel save. Like he doesn’t have to be strong in front of the Hobbit all the time, because he would never use Thorin’s weakness to his advantage. In fact, sometimes he thinks Bilbo somehow has more respect for him when he has a moment of vulnerability, even though that doesn’t make sense to Thorin at all.

He still opens the coat and feels Bilbo’s arms wrap around his body. He turns his head to place his cheek on Thorin’s chest. It makes him tense up and feeling unsure what to do, but he still allows it. Even though it’s odd and unfamiliar, he kind of likes it. 

“I’m glad we stayed out here. It really is a lovely night,” Bilbo whispers after a moment of silence.

“Yes, a lovely night,” Thorin agrees and ever so gently, rests his chin on the Hobbit’s head. The snow is falling a lot thicker now and glistens like diamonds where it covers the ground. He can hardly believe that he never stopped to appreciate the beauty of something so simple. He tilts his head down slightly until his nose is buried in Bilbo’s hair. He smells like he recently had a bath and his hair is fascinating. It is so unlike dwarfish hair, soft and curled and, a little terrified by the thought, Thorin realizes that he would love to run his hands through it just once.

“What do you think is going to happen next?” Bilbo asks after another long pause and Thorin doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know. He might have some feelings for the Hobbit that he wasn’t aware of before but it is way too early to admit to having them at all. “With the people of Laketown and the Elves, I mean.”

“Oh! That’s what you’re talking about.” Thorin breathes a sigh of relief, even though _that_ question is just as difficult to answer. 

“What did you think I meant?” Bilbo pulls away just a little bit to look at Thorin.

“Nothing.” Thorin shakes his head and then frowns. Now that Bilbo has moves a little, he can feel something hard pressing against his leg. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Bilbo replies, repeating Thorin’s words and turning away awkwardly. 

“That’s not nothing.” Thorin’s eyes narrow dangerously. He may have underestimated Bilbo when he thought he wouldn’t take the Arkenstone from him. The Hobbit might be a better burglar than expected. “Show me what you’re hiding.”

“This really was a nice moment, you know?” Bilbo scowls at Thorin for ruining the quiet understanding between them and reaches down between their bodies. He comes up with something that appears to be just a bundle of old rags until Thorin has a chance to take it in his hands and examine it further. He untangles it and discovers the wooden structure underneath the dirty fabric. It is a doll, old, worn and broken, but unmistakably made by a dwarfish hand. It is slightly singed as well. A harsh reminder of how and when this doll was left behind and Thorin can see now why Bilbo was reluctant to show it to him. “Why do you have this?”

“I… I found it when I went for a walk today. I thought that I could fix it for one of the children from Laketown who have lost everything. Or keep it.” He says the last words very quietly, almost too quietly to hear.

“Why would you keep it?”

Bilbo shrugs his shoulders and gives Thorin a little smile.

“I don’t know. I dreamed of having a large family, I suppose, and this would make such a wonderful gift for a little girl.”

“A large family?” Thorin asks as if he had never heard of the concept, when it was in fact something he had thought about as well. Any size family at all sounded good to him, if he was being honest, but he had long made peace with the fact that it just wasn’t for him. “What were you waiting for? Certainly not for me to come around and take you away.”

“No, of course I wasn’t waiting for you.” Bilbo’s laugh is a little bit off this time. “I just… I’m not the Hobbit to take a wife. I’m not… uhm, interested in that sort of thing.”

“I see,” Thorin says slowly and wraps his coat around Bilbo a little tighter. His heart is pounding in his chest all of a sudden and he feels flustered and warm and excited at the same time. “What are you interested in?”

Bilbo’s fingers curl around a strand of Thorin’s hair, tugging slightly as he plays with it.

“Can’t you tell?” He looks up, directly at Thorin. The firelight makes his eyes shine and sparkle beautifully and for the first time in days, Thorin doesn’t think about the gold or the sacrifices he has to make. For a moment he sees himself in The Shire, surrounded by a bunch of children, Hobbits and Dwarves they adopted. For a moment, he sees himself happy.

His hand rests softly against Bilbo’s cheek before he bows his head and allows his lips to meet Bilbo’s. Gently, and for a moment, happy.


End file.
